


Forgot There’s No Such Thing As How Things Are

by prettykawa (okaymosshead)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Mutual Pining, i cant choose I have to write them both, okay it’s really soft crack, one bed trope, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaymosshead/pseuds/prettykawa
Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi have been going to the same college for a year now, and when they finally had the time and money, they jumped at the chance to get an apartment together. Only problem is, Oikawa didn’t exactly read the listing, and now they’re just two best friends (hopelessly and obliviously in love with each other) with one bedroom big enough for one bed. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	Forgot There’s No Such Thing As How Things Are

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh this is my first ever hq fic (that I’ve posted). thank you @jeanmorehoe for reading over it and encouraging me to write!! ily forever. (she’s also the one that forced me to watch hq so now I’ll never shut up abt those volleyball boys.) Also rated T for iwa’s potty mouth I’m so sorry he’s vulgar

The building loomed above them, blending in with the skyline of matching rows of apartment complexes. When Tooru had approached him with this idea the last semester of their freshman year of college, Hajime had jumped at the chance. He had hated his randomly assigned roommate, always leaving their shared dorm to visit his best friend instead. And really, Tooru’s roommates liked Hajime much more, so it was a win win situation for everyone. Living together wouldn’t be much different, and at least this way they saved money. 

Unfortunately, neither had had the chance to tour the place, always too busy with practice and homework, but after asking around campus and looking at the complex’s website, Tooru assured Hajime he could handle the rest of the process.

“As long as you bring those big strong muscles to carry your great captain’s belongings, that’s all that will be needed of you, Iwa-chan!”

“Hey, ow! Why must you attack your great leader, hey-!”

In the end, Tooru had sent in their application and signed off on all of the necessary paperwork. Finally, after a summer of waiting, it was their move-in day.

“Ah, so it says we’re in unit 3B? Come on Hajime I wanna see the place,” Tooru said. He grabbed at his arm excitedly as Hajime put the moving van they had rented into park. He turned the keys out of the ignition with a pointed glare, but to be honest, he was just as excited. It felt like they were truly grown up, finally free to be whatever they wanted out of sight and out of mind from their parents. 

Well, that wasn’t the only reason Hajime was excited about his new living situation. To be perfectly honest, as much as Tooru made him want to bash his head into the wall, he was so hopelessly and endlessly in love with him. He had been since middle school, his childhood crush never seeming to dissipate no matter how many dates Tooru had set him up with in high school. He had a few girlfriends here and there, but looking back he can see that those relationships were born of jealousy for whoever Tooru had his eyes on that week. It was petty, sure, but back then he was practically begging for his attention, just to be noticed. 

He had mellowed out a lot more in university, and honestly it seemed Tooru had as well. He hadn’t been in a relationship in over a year now, citing academics and volleyball as his only relationship (and yet for some reason that didn’t stop Tooru from taking Hajime to a movie each Tuesday night, or falling asleep on his shoulder on morning bus rides, or forcing Hajime to hold his hand when they crossed a busy street. Figures this kind of shit would happen to him).

Despite it all, Hajime would never go out of his way to tell him. Better to stuff his feelings deep down inside and ignore them than be rejected. Living with him would be hard, but he would do anything to keep them from drifting apart. Anything to make Tooru smile, to be a home for him. 

And all of this would come crashing to a halt when they walked into their new home.

——  
“Fucking—-Shittykawa what the, I just, what the fuck?”

“Hmm….Well, surely this can’t be right.”

“Can’t be right? Tooru, I—there’s only one fucking bedroom.”

Tooru ran a hand through his hair nervously, and gave one of his quick fake laughs that would normally make Hajime feel much different than he did now. Normally he’d want to bring him close, bury his head in his chest. Now he wanted to bury him in the ground.

“I’m so sorry Iwa-chan! I didn’t know—AH! Please God, I’m sorry, Hajime—NO.”

Tooru ran out of the room, quickly grabbing the car keys as Hajime lunged for him, screaming that he would make up to him by going to get their stuff all by himself.

Hajime scanned the bedroom, barely big enough for a bed and a desk, maybe enough room in the closet for Tooru’s sports jackets and a few of his shirts.

Great. Really, what could go wrong?

——-  
After bullying Tooru into speaking with the property manager, they were unfortunately stuck with the place for an entire year. It really wouldn’t be so bad if the room wasn’t so fucking small. Hajime may be large in size but Tooru was double that in personal belongings and triple that in personality. He was sure that room would be declared a disaster zone within a week. 

“Well, look at it this way, Iwa-chan. We may not have enough room for two beds, but we could stack our mattresses on top of each other. Double mattress!”

Hajime had rolled his eyes and made plans to sell the cheap mattress he’d gotten off of ebay to whoever would take it off his hands. He’d have to settle to leave it leaning against the living room wall for now, where Tooru had stacked up his alien plushies on top of it like it was a shelf.

However, there was one part of this that just wasn’t sitting right with Hajime, gnawing at the edges of his throat, his stomach churning. They hadn’t exactly discussed their sleeping arrangements. Would they take turns? Would Tooru want him to sleep on the floor or on the couch? Or would he—no, there was no way. Mr. Prettykawa would probably rather die than sleep in the same bed as him. Sure, they had plenty of sleepovers as kids, but Tooru was such a violent sleeper he normally had kicked Hajime off of the bed by 2 AM. He’d wake up in the middle of the night, shivering on the hardwood floor as Tooru laid splayed out on the bed in all directions. Hajime would then crawl back into bed, huddling to the side of him for warmth, as the blanket had gotten wrapped up in all strange directions and shapes.

Honestly, a tiny (yet hopeful) part of him wished that Tooru would resolve to just share the bed with him. Maybe he’d even want to. Maybe, deep down he wished he could go to sleep next to him with the moonlight cast over his face, only to wake up to the sun filling his eyes.

Maybe, in another life anyway.

Hajime felt his own anxiety quickly slash through any hope he had, but at least he could have his one little moment to daydream. He reminded himself that the world would not stop turning, that time would move on, and he would genuinely be okay if Tooru didn’t care to sleep anywhere near him. 

Really, it was fine. 

He went back to folding his shirts, suddenly very interested in lining up the folds just nicely, all to avoid Tooru who stood behind him, fitting his bright lime green sheets to the bed.

“So, Iwa-chan, which side of the bed are you going to pick? I usually prefer the right side, but my bed at home is in the opposite corner. So I guess I should go with the left? But would that be the same since the room is flipped? I can’t really say I know how directions work, the volleyball court never really changes like that anyway, so I—“

“Wait,” Hajime began, interrupting another Oikawa tirade that would surely go on for another 15 minutes if left unchecked.

“You want to...share the bed?” Hajime asked, his hands going to his sides to fit into his pockets. He tried to preoccupy himself with the way the floor looked, a carpet that had seen far too many college kids live on top of it. He was sure they would only further mess it up, Tooru did like to eat his breakfast in bed, and Hajime liked to get drunk on the floor. (The perfect duo, really.)

Tooru looked down at the floor sheepishly, his stupid sarcastic half smile wiped off of his pretty face.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume, I mean if you don’t want to...we really don’t have to,” Tooru said, biting his lip slightly as he did when he was upset. God, Hajime just wanted to kiss his frown away, hold him in his arms, and tell him everything was going to be okay.

“Oh, no, I mean it’s fine. Or whatever. Just don’t kick me out of the bed like you did when we were kids, Pushykawa.”

At his reply, Tooru immediately perked up, switching back to his little fake smile effortlessly, as he tried to hide both his excitement and his earlier genuine dismay at the thought of Hajime not wanting to be close to him. Something about it just rubbed him the wrong way, but he pushed that feeling down in exchange for throwing a balled up t-shirt at his head. 

“Iwa-chan, that was my shirt! Are you really gonna hurt me like this?” He pouted as he held the shirt in his hands, turning his head to the side and giving Hajime his signature puppy dog eyes that melted his insides and turned him into mush.

“Whatever. I want the left side of the bed.”

Tooru gave him a little thumbs up, his face dissolving into a small smile he had reserved just for him.

“Of course, Hajime. Anything you want, okay?” The way he ended his sentence was soft, his voice a gentle summer breeze to Hajime’s ears. Speaking of his ears, he could feel them growing redder the more his brain betrayed him. He thought of Tooru’s head next to his, his soft voice filtering out to his ears, the small puff of his breath on his neck. He had the most beautiful voice on the planet like sweet honey to his ears. He could only imagine what he sounded like when things would get a little more heated, his breath picking up rapidly, his voice beginning to crack, until—

“Well,” Tooru said, a big dumb smile plastered on his big stupid face. He stood up and cracked his knuckles one at a time. “Time to go collect my children.”

“Your what now?”

“My children!” Tooru beamed, rushing back with armfuls of various squishmallows and alien plushies he had bought off of sketchy conspiracy theory websites. He held up a small green dinosaur with a little red heart stitched on its side.

“This one’s for you, Iwa-chan! I named him little Haji, isn’t he cute? He looks just like you!” Tooru held up the cute atrocity, waving it in front of Hajime’s face making babbling noises like he was holding a baby.

“Get that thing the fuck away from me, skank,” Hajime growled, spiking the dinosaur out of his hands and onto the floor. Tooru screamed, scrambling to rescue the baby from Hajime’s wrath.

“Iwa-chan!! How could you use volleyball techniques for this kind of diabolical evil? We’re only supposed to do that kind of stuff with Tobio!”

“Keep that shit up, and I’ll beat the fuck out of the rest of your “little friends”, Babykawa.”

“Oh, you’re calling me baby now, huh, Hajime? How kinky.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

And with that, the earlier drama regarding their sleeping arrangements was completely disregarded and replaced with their petty arguing. Hajime felt much safer in this space, one where he bullied Tooru and was tormented with more stupidity in return. Could they really keep this up forever, though?

God, he wasn’t going to be able to handle this.

———

After a few more hours of work, their shared bedroom had finally been completely unpacked. 

The bed was painfully small, a full-sized mattress that Tooru had gotten as a going away present from his sister. They had squeezed it into the corner of the bedroom, where it overlooked all of the piles of junk they had crammed into the tiny room. It was a mishmash of both of their personalities, as if they came together to make a space that exemplified who they were (and oh, when had Hajime gotten so sappy?). 

Tooru had apologized profusely about how much closet space he had taken up, but Hajime’s wardrobe was pretty limited. He really only needed the space for his volleyball uniforms (and truthfully, he didn’t mind his clothes squeezed in next to Tooru’s, right next to his old jacket that smelled just like him, of the ground after the sun had warmed the falling rain). 

Luckily within all of the chaos, they were able to fit a little TV on top of their dresser, one Hajime had owned since he was a kid. It even still had a DVD player attached to the bottom, an old copy of his favorite Godzilla movie still jammed in there.

Tooru had even brought a box of old DVDs they had stolen from the rental place when they were kids, tucked into their shirts as they snuck past the clerk. They mostly consisted of Disney movies and films with weird alien covers that had scared them shitless when they had first watched them. For a week or two after, Tooru had held his hand on the way home, afraid that they would beam him up into the sky and take him to their home planet. He would reach his hand out as they walked, his hands slipping comfortably into Hajime’s without the two of them even noticing. (And other times, Hajime would hold his hand out before Tooru could even ask, knowing just the right time to reach out to him.)

As always, (to break down the walls of anxiety Tooru built around himself with jokes and well meaning jabs to bring him back to reality—anything to make him smile again.) Hajime thoughtfully reminded him the aliens were probably just looking for their real son, since Tooru looked so much like an alien. He then had to hold his hand walking home for the next few weeks after that, but you win some you lose some (and wasn’t he always winning the battles and never the war?).

Since their bedroom was packed to the ceilings with stuff, (“and no Iwa-Chan I am not a hoarder—just sentimental,” Tooru had told him as he placed another old and disgustingly unwashed framed jersey on the wall) they spent the rest of the day in their living room, worn out from a full day of walking their boxes upon boxes of stuff up to the third floor of the apartment complex. (And no, Lazykawa, I am not your pack mule, carry your own shit! We’re only 30 minutes away from home, there was absolutely no reason to bring everything you’ve ever owned!). 

They drank and laughed as they played some old sitcom on the television, not particularly paying attention to what was on the screen. Hajime had bought himself a few cases of beer, and some weird wine shit that Tooru had sworn up and down was the only drink refined enough for his palate. Hajime had hit him in the face with the cork for that one, just to see his pout once again. 

They had planned to drink until they couldn’t stand, in celebration of their new home. Class wouldn’t start for another week, and Hajime wouldn’t start his job at the local gym until the week after that. Tooru had pounced on the idea, always one for a party (and to see Iwa-Chan’s funny drunk laugh, please let me record it this time Hajime, I’ve been in need of a new ringtone!). But, Hajime supposed, he had a bit of an ulterior motive for getting himself plastered tonight.

It was his first night in the apartment with his lifelong crush, and said lifelong crush would probably be snuggled up to him in a few hours.

What could go wrong?

(And with that, he grabbed the entire case of beer. It was going to be a long night.)

——-

“Ah, Hajime, it’s getting kind of late don’t you think?”

Tooru set down the glass of wine on the small coffee table they had gotten at a thrift store a few days ago. He had already shown Hajime a Pinterest board he had set up in order to “DIY and Beautify” (whatever the fuck that meant) their new place. He planned to paint the coffee table and make his own placemats, one for each of them. Hajime had called him his little homemaker, and Tooru’s face erupted in a shade of red that made his heart skip a beat or two (not that he’d ever admit such a thing, really, isn’t it normal to feel that way about your best friend? Is it a crime to fantasize about kissing the blush away from his cheeks? To wipe his tears away when he cries? To marry him? Maybe.).

Hajime reached for another drink, the empty beer bottles on his side of the table piling up and clinking together as he shoved his fifth empty bottle into the pile. 

“I mean, a little, I guess. Think I’m gonna keep drinking for a bit though, what’s a celebration if we’re not drunk, soberkawa?” He asked, taking far too big a sip, the alcohol burning his throat.

Tooru laughed and ran a hand through his hair, his bangs falling back over his eyes. His cheeks were blushed pink with the alcohol, his tolerance much lower (Iwa-chan just because you spent half of high school drinking doesn’t mean we all did!) and his wine a much higher proof than the 24 beers Hajime planned to down. He had sulked for a bit after spilling a bit on his white shirt, but kept drinking nonetheless.

“I guess you’re right,” Tooru agreed with a small laugh. He poured himself another glass, a few drops of wine falling to the table. “You always know how to have a good time, Iwa-chan. You must be a hit at parties.” He stuck his tongue out as he said it, the corners of his eyes scrunching together as he giggled to himself again.

God, he was so beautiful.

Hajime wanted to reach out and brush away the blush littering his cheeks, putting a cool hand on his forehead, his hand clasping the back of his head, slowly leaning in and—

Fuck. Hajime couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He can’t remember why he thought the alcohol would help diminish these feelings, so he ignored them in favor of another bottle in his hands.

“I bet you’re jus’ as much fun at parties. Everyone’s always goin’ on n’ on about how much they love you n’ shit. Can’t blame ‘em though. I mean seriously. It’s fuckin’ unfair.”

Tooru stopped laughing, suddenly looking straight into Hajime’s eyes, tilting his head to the side with a question that wouldn’t come out of his mouth, not now anyways.

“Maybe you’ve had a bit too much to drink Hajime, I mean we still have lunch with my parents tomorrow you know,” he said, reaching for the beer clasped firmly in his hands.

Hajime swung his arm away, nearly hitting his elbows on the lamp next to the couch. 

“Well, maybe you’ve had too little to drink. Ever think about that shittykawa?” he asked, his heart pounding painfully loud as Tooru’s fingers brushed his hand. (And couldn’t he hear it too? The roar from his heart that drummed into his ears and out into his very being? Maybe he was just being dramatic.)

Tooru held up both of his hands in defense. The blush on his face was still there, but it seemed to have arisen from more than just the alcohol flowing through him. Hajime ignored the thought with another sip. Everything was so warm. Really, he had a good system going here.

“Fine, fine, Iwa-chan. But if you throw up on me in the middle of the night, you’re gonna get what’s coming to ya,” he joked, his eyes staring pointedly at the ceiling. Hajime carefully placed a hand on his shoulder to bring him down and back to Earth. And then he remembered.

Oh, right, yes. The bed. Hajime kept trying to force the idea out of his mind, yet it was still there, looming menacingly in the part of his brain he tried to ignore. Him. And Tooru. Sharing a bed. The mechanics of such a thing were probably too complicated even for the world’s best scientists to comprehend. How many drinks did he have left now? He grumbled a response, something about how if Tooru even put his feet anywhere near him while they were asleep he’d kick his ass, but it all came out as a drunken garbled whisper.

He stared at his hands, the bottle below him shifting in and out of his peripheral as he tried to force his drunk brain to calm his heart down enough and think rationally. He was just lucky Tooru hadn’t banished either of them to the couch, claiming it would be too cruel for any human being to sleep on that thing. Besides, he had said, his eyes always so big and meaningful (so full of life it fucking hurt him to even look his way.) they had shared a bed plenty of times at sleepovers as kids before. They could just do this for a bit until they could afford a futon for one of them to sleep on in the living room.

Right. This was just temporary. That’s all it was. He should just be happy that he got to exist in the same space as his best friend, to coexist with him and the warm sunlight that he brought into every room. (But did he really want it to be this way?)

“Hajime?”

Of course he had always felt this way, but now everything seemed so much more real, so tangible and yet so far from his grasp. Hajime could feel his head spinning at the mere thought.

“Hello, Earth to Iwa-chan?”

“Oh, huh, what, sorry,” he stammered as Tooru shook him out of his own thoughts. He looked at Hajime carefully, always thinking and calculating. His face changed quickly, the careful mask he crafted slipping back into place with ease (as if Hajime couldn’t see right through him, as if he didn’t know what laid beneath—they were one in the same, after all.)

“You worried me there for a second Iwa-chan,” Tooru began, “thought that single-celled brain of yours had finally given up on you for good.”

Hajime punched him in the arm, light and yet with more feeling than words could come to him (and he always had done so, always reaching for Tooru with his fists closed and his arms stretched high. Always reaching but never quite getting there.)

“Don’t need a brain to know where to hit you at, shittykawa,” Hajime replied in retaliation. The beer in his hand had started to grow a bit warm from where it rested in his feverish palms, so he finished it off with a few more gulps. He reached for another just as Tooru reached for the TV remote, unphased and seemingly unbothered by his attack. (And it’s as though they existed in tandem, flowing like a river, always in the same direction no matter the strength of the current, always so eager in the complacency and predictability of it all.)

“How about I put a movie on then? We can make a little drinking game out of it, and then head to bed after. If you can even make it down the hallway, my little drunk Iwa-chan,” he teased, his voice light and airy. It flowed through the wind and echoed through Hajime’s head like garden wind chimes on a summer night. He almost shuddered at the thought, goosebumps lining his arms. (And when had he let himself succumb to such raw, unfiltered emotion?)

“Sounds good t’ me. If you’re willing to lose that is,” he slurred, the bottle in his hand sloshing as he waved his arms around a little. The glow from the lamp filtered into his eyes until he began to see spots. He turned it off as Tooru flipped through Netflix to find a suitable film, muttering to himself in that way he always did when he thought too hard about a simple task.

“Drinking games aren’t supposed to be competitive, Iwa-chan. But as your captain, I dutifully accept this challenge, and plan to win it,” Tooru declared as he finally selected a movie from the list. Hajime stared at his hands as he clicked play on the remote, suddenly more interested in the way his slender fingers changed the volume than whatever was on the screen. The lump in his throat forced him to look back however and he saw that Tooru had landed on Finding Nemo. He had already found a list of rules on his phone as well, scrolling through and saving the good ones that were also simple to recall while inebriated. Hajime’s fingers twitched around the neck of the bottle, his hand itching to reach over and do something, anything. He sat still.

Tooru then (as he always does, always putting Hajime’s mind into a frenzy of words that couldn’t be formed into coherent sentences) slipped the fuzzy blanket that laid haphazardly on the back of the couch on top of them. It had little plants and trees all over it, something he had owned since he was a kid. Hajime resisted the urge to pull it to his face and take a deep breath, enveloping himself in the smell of his best friend. (Un)fortunately, he didn’t have the time to even contemplate such a thought as Tooru scooted closer to Hajime to better fit both of their long legs under it. He felt his face burn as Tooru’s knee brushed his, painfully close. 

Hajime suddenly felt entirely too aware of his surroundings, his leg on fire from where his knee once was. He quickly stamped down the feeling by opening another bottle. He threw the cap into the pile he had formed on the floor. Tooru poured himself another glass as he read off the rules, finally pressing play after getting through the short list. Hajime could feel the warmth radiating from Tooru’s arm, static electricity laced between the miniscule space between them. (Oh, and how he desperately needed to know if he felt it too, the universe calling out to every atom in their bodies with magnetic pull that brought each other into orbit, circling around a home in an intense revolution.)

The blue glow from the movie’s ocean lit up their faces as they laid their on the couch, two opposite poles drawn to each other, begging and pleading one or the other to move a bit closer, the space between them buzzing with energy. He always found himself here somehow.

As the movie played on, Hajime could barely keep up with the rules, only raising the bottle to his lips when Tooru held up his glass and declared that they “drink for those goddamn fish”. Hajime liked to watch the way his lips met the glass as Tooru drank, his eyes burning as his imagination got away from him. He imagined himself there instead, his face stained cherry red as soft lips met his own. He would place his fingers to them, just to prove the fact, his other hand positioned below his chin to tilt his head towards his own. (In another life?)

Just as Nemo had found his way into the fish tank, Hajime felt his eyes slowly fall shut in and out of sleep as Tooru continued sipping on his wine, the world peaceful while his heart beat erratically in a fit of scattered shouts. There was only so much he could do to keep his eyes open anymore. The last thing he thought of as he drifted off was Tooru carefully taking his drink from his hand, and laying Hajime’s head on his shoulder with a small sigh and a wave of hands through his hair. 

——-  
Tooru stretched as the end credits for the movie began to roll. He still felt pretty tipsy from all the wine, but he was nowhere as drunk as Iwa-chan was. His best friend currently was slumped against his side, his face resting on his shoulder. He drooled a little in his sleep, and Tooru fought himself over whether or not it was really adorable or absolutely disgusting.

He looked over at the microwave clock, their kitchen attached directly to their small living room. It blinked 2:00 across its front. He supposed it was time to drag both himself and Iwa-chan off to bed, if he could even get the big oaf off of him and walking. 

He glanced over at the person in question, who was currently muttering in his sleep. Tooru ran his hand slowly through his hair, his fingers twisting the loose ends that had fallen from the gel Hajime had used earlier this morning. He looked so peaceful, so beautiful in the faint glow of the tv, wrapped up in one of his own blankets. Suddenly, Tooru felt an odd sense of relief wash over him. It was like looking at Hajime silenced his fear of the future, his burning anxiety of tomorrow and whether or not he would live up to his own expectations. His best friend always calmed and down and fired him up in the best ways possible, and honestly, all he wanted to do now was go to sleep next to him and sleep far into the next day.

Okay, so maybe he was in love with his best friend. But could you really blame him? Tooru Oikawa did everything in his life at 110%, and loving Hajime was no different. Really, he couldn’t believe he had said yes to moving in with Tooru in the first place. Hell, he was even more surprised he hadn’t packed his bags after seeing his royal screw up with the bedroom situation. Through it all, Hajime always stayed so close to him, and that’s what made it so easy, so simple to love him. 

He shook Iwa-chan’s shoulder, jostling him until his eyelids slowly parted open.

“Come on, Iwa-chan it’s bed time. You’re not really gonna make me walk there all by my lonesome are you? Please?”

Hajime grumbled a response, holding one arm out as if he expected Tooru to carry him, or something ridiculous like that. Really, the nerve of some people in this house.

Tooru helped lift him up, Hajime stumbling with every other step. He gripped onto Tooru’s bicep, squeezing much harder than necessary. Luckily for the both of them, the bedroom was just down the hallway, and when they made it in the room Tooru practically had to flip Hajime’s body onto the bed, pushing him until he rolled in the corner.

He stayed laying there as Tooru quickly took his clothes off, exchanging them for the alien pajamas Iwa-chan had gotten him last Christmas. He stumbled a little putting his legs through the pants hole, almost hitting his forehead on the wall. Okay, maybe he was a little trashed too. But at least he wasn’t as bad as Mr. 16 beer cans over there. 

After finally figuring out how to put a shirt on, Tooru turned off the lights and scrambled into bed, holding Hajime close under the blankets. He shivered a little as the AC above them buzzed and blew out cold hair. He pressed himself close to Hajime’s chest and snuggled his head into his neck. 

“Mm, goodnight Hajime, I love you,” he said with a whisper, closing his eyes. “Thank you so much for choosing me as your roommate.”

Tooru grew quiet for a moment before continuing on. “You know, sometimes I really wish we could be more, and that maybe I’d tell you when you weren’t passed out drunk or something. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just crazy but sometimes I swear I can tell that you feel the same way, Hajime. But if this is all I can have I’ll cherish it forever.”

As he felt himself drifting off into a peaceful sleep, the silence of the room was suddenly cut in two, and what peace he had felt before now spiraled into dread, because oh my god—

“You what?”

____

With four words Hajime suddenly felt intensely sober. 

I love you, Hajime.

No. No there was no way, because he could have sworn that he was drunk and laying in bed, not getting a love confession from the only crush he’d ever had in his life. That can’t be true.

He looked at Tooru, who stared at him slack jawed. He could see how big his eyes were with the little moonlight that drifted through the curtains and onto his face, the moving clouds making his eyes sparkle as they passed the moon.

“Oh I mean, well I, you see Iwa, I’m uhh—“

“Shut up, asshole. I. Well, I guess what I’m just trying to say is….I love you too.”

“I’m sorry if this is weird now—I, wait what?”

“What, just because you said it first doesn’t mean I get to say it back? I’ve, well, I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Tooru.” Oikawa’s eyes widened and he put one hand to Hajime’s cheek.

“I’ve always loved you, you asshole. For a really fucking long time.” 

And just like that, there were tears falling down his face, and he could have sworn he saw them pooling in the stars of his best friend’s eyes too.

“A long time?”

Suddenly they were both crying, drunk and happy and confused all at the same time.

“You—you love me?”

“And you love me, huh?”

“God we’re both just so—“

“We’re actually just fucking—“

“Stupid.”

The two cracked up as they called each other out at the exact same time. Their laughs filled the small room, echoing across the walls. When they finally stopped, Tooru put both hands on his face, one to each cheek, and looked at him seriously.

“Hajime...do you know what this means?”

“Uh, I’m really gay and drunk and we need to have a serious conversation ‘bout our future tomorrow morning?”

“No—I mean yes but, okay just watch.”

And just like that they were kissing, Tooru holding Hajime’s head in his hands like he was fragile, so gentle and passionate at the same time. Their kiss seemed to last an eternity as Hajime’s everything collectively melted into a pile on the floor. Eventually, to his dismay, Tooru pulled away and stared at him again, the moonlight casting shadows under his long eyelashes. 

“God, Hajime you’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful and I love you so much. I always have.”

Hajime kissed his cheek, his face burning as he squeezed his eyes shut. Since when was he so fucking flustered? He grabbed Tooru’s hand and pressed it to his heart. (He had always known Tooru responded better to actions than words). “I’ve always loved you too, Prettykawa. I always will.” He held his hand up and kissed his palm, closing Tooru’s fingers over the spot where he had kissed him, like Hajime was wrapping him a gift. Oh, and—he’s crying again.

Hajime didn’t need the moonlight to tell him how red that particular comment had colored Tooru’s face. He also didn’t need the light to see where he would be kissing his new boyfriend for the next half an hour until they both passed out, drunk and delirious and so in love with each other in their little rundown apartment, their legs tangled together under the sheets in a bed that was much to small for the both of them.

Before he finally drifted off again, Hajime placed one more kiss to Tooru’s forehead.

“Forever, okay? This is just how things are.”

——-

(an epilogue)

“Hey, Iwa-chan have you seen my phone? I think I left it on the bed—OH MY GOD GET OUT OF THERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT YOU MONSTROUS BEAST.”

Hajime laid on his bed, scrolling through Tooru’s phone. “Are you kidding me, Shittykawa? We’re literally fucking dating why can’t I look at your phone? What, you have something to hide?”

Tooru’s face reddened. “Well, uh, no just—I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO DO SO GET OFF OF THERE!” He reached over to rescue his phone from his evil boyfriend, but Hajime kicked him away before he had the chance.

“Now let’s just see...where do you keep google on this thing? Ah, yep, here we go.”

“No, Iwa-chan I’m begging you please don’t—“

Hajime kicked him again, knocking the wind out of Tooru as he fell to the floor.

“Let’s just see….’aliens real proof?’ ‘Aliens are real proof pictures real aliens on Earth?’ ‘How to tell your boyfriend that he’s gay?’ ‘Cute nicknames for your gay boyfriend for guys to use?’ ‘Tooru Oikawa volleyball news?’ Wow, Stupidkawa, I didn’t think it could be worse than this.” Tooru reached for the phone again as Hajime threw it the floor. He scrambled for it, clutching it in his hands like Hajime had just caught him watching porn (only, really this was much much worse).

Tooru looked at him with his signature pout, and really, it was only a matter of time before the whining started up again. 

“Iwa-chan you’re so mean! Why would you go through my stuff!”

“Well, maybe don’t leave your shit on my bed, and then I won’t go through your stuff. Literally, you’re always leaving so much shit on the bed, do you know how small this thing is already?”

Tooru crossed his arms and gave him the best glare he could muster (it really wasn’t much in comparison).

“Yeah, well the only shit I see on my bed now is you, Hajime.” Tooru pointed at him as he said it, which was really a rookie move on his part. With that, Hajime grabbed onto his hand, pulling Tooru down to the bed, where he landed right on top of him.

“Come on, stop whining already. I like you much better right here anyways.” 

“...really?”

“Yeah, really.”

And if they didn’t leave the bedroom for the rest of the night, well, they didn’t really have to talk about it.

“I love you, Hajime.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, baby. Always.”

——-

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! this really came out as both fluff and crack lmao. the angstier parts I wrote on nights I was sad, and the funnier ones I wrote in the middle of the day lmao. thank you for reading, likes n comments and all that are appreciated :)


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